


Tea That Absolutely Slaps

by notjodieyet



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (there's no jealousy i promise!), Coffee Shops, Dubious Worldbuilding, F/F, Multi, One Shot, Polyamory, once again i am writing thrissyrose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjodieyet/pseuds/notjodieyet
Summary: The Doctor sipped what tasted like alien green tea and stared despondently at the rest of the coffee shop from her table in the corner.The shop was nearly empty, save for the barista, whose hair looked like jumping flames sprouted from her head, and the Doctor. It was very early in the day (or at least what qualified as early in the day, here), so the Doctor had a long time before anyone came in.Although that really just made it worse.(or: the Doctor waits for Rose and is a bit lonely.)
Relationships: The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler, Thirteenth Doctor/Missy/Rose Tyler, Thirteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Tea That Absolutely Slaps

The Doctor sipped what tasted like alien green tea and stared despondently at the rest of the coffee shop from her table in the corner.

The shop was nearly empty, save for the barista, whose hair looked like jumping flames sprouted from her head, and the Doctor. It was very early in the day (or at least what  _ qualified _ as early in the day, here), so the Doctor had a long time before anyone came in. Although that really just made it worse.

The Doctor pulled out her phone.  _ 1 new notification,  _ but it was from Missy, and it said  _ Help TARDIS filled with water HELP!!!! _ . The Doctor muted her and clicked it off. 

She had told Rose they’d meet at this coffee shop this morning after Rose had gone out to flirt with that girl last night. The Doctor had slept in the TARDIS, Missy’s limbs wrapped around her like the largest spider monkey there ever was, and left the hotel room they’d gotten for Rose. And the girl, if she so pleased. 

The Doctor took another long sip from her tea. It no longer tasted like green tea — something black, now, she thought. English Breakfast? She tried it again.

“Can I help you?”

The Doctor looked up. The barista was standing there, smiling worriedly, her fire-hair drooping around her. Well, that was curious. The Doctor made a mental note to investigate the flammability of these people.

The Doctor made a second mental note to learn the  _ name _ of these people.

“No, thank you,” she said. “Tea’s fine. Tea’s great, actually. Tea’s fantastic. It…” What was the word Rose had used, yesterday? “Tea absolutely  _ slaps _ .” The Doctor grinned up at the barista with her patented everything-is-perfectly-fine grin.

(Although maybe Missy was being sarcastic when she’d said it was  _ tooootally convincing. _ The Doctor was beginning to regret not asking for a followup.)

The barista took a second, and the Doctor could see the gears turning in her head. She clicked her tongue, eventually, and nodded. “If you need anything,” she said.

The Doctor was sure she wouldn’t need anything, but she said “Thanks!” and shot her I-like-you-but-go-away grin in the barista’s direction. (Missy hadn’t been lying about  _ that _ one.) (Right?)

It worked, anyhow, and the barista left. The Doctor took out her mobile again: 12 unread messages, all from Missy. The Doctor really wished she would shut up.

The Doctor wasn’t jealous of the girl Rose had been kissing earlier. She did, however, miss Rose quite a bit. Missy was wonderful, really, but she didn’t exactly make good breakfast conversation. Or good breakfast. 

(Missy was good at cooking, normally. This morning, she’d just placed one uncracked, uncooked egg on a plate in front of the Doctor.)

(And when the Doctor complained, she’d added a piece of raw broccoli and a bowl of salt. Missy was just  _ like that _ .)

The Doctor slurped her tea. Rose would have liked it, she thought. She wondered what Rose would think it tasted like. 

If the Doctor was good at anything, it was moping. She’d learned from the best, after all (Missy, Missy, Missy again). She scowled at the coffee shop at large, making sure to turn her glare away from the poor barista who did not deserve the Doctor’s current, awful mood. The artificial plants quivered at her unrestrained grumpiness.

This wasn’t very fun without a witness. She should have dragged Missy along. She should have found her  _ own _ pretty, mortal girl. It was one of her best skills, after all: casually seducing spunky revolution leaders, or London shopgirls, or Victorian women with ghosts in their homes.

Or.

Baristas.

The Doctor wasn’t too old to have a bit of fun, she thought — Missy would have done the same, in her position. (She didn’t stop to think that maybe  _ Missy _ was not, in fact, the best role model). She could flirt. She could flirt on  _ purpose. _ She could flirt just as well as Rose Tyler could — hell, even better. She was the  _ best _ flirt.

The Doctor waved the barista open just as the door flew open and a blonde girl burst through, her hair in tangles, clutching a paper bag.  _ Mad girl _ , thought the Doctor.

“Morning,” said Rose.

“Morning,” said the Doctor. “I didn’t miss you at all.”

Rose sat down across from her. Her cheeks were glowing, either from the exercise or some unknown embarrassment. She snatched up the Doctor’s tea and finished it off. “You ordered  _ English Breakfast _ ?”

“No,” said the Doctor. 

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Anyway, I’m so sorry I was late.”

“You’re not late at all,” said the Doctor. “Missy made a wonderful breakfast. There’s leftovers in the fridge. Unless you’ve eaten.” 

“I haven’t eaten. I was just…” Rose blushed. “I was just _so_ busy, and I got so distracted, and I got nearly no sleep, so.”  
“Had fun, then?” 

Rose shrugged. “Uh. I guess. Look, I got you something, and…” Rose placed the bag on the table and slid it across.

“Got  _ me _ something? What happened to that lady you were talking to?” 

“Sylvia?” The Doctor quirked her eyebrows at that.  _ Sylvia _ is a name from a very specific part of Earth, not… here. (The Doctor excuses her memory slip with the very little sleep she had last night). “Oh, we hit it off, but she’s really not my type.” Rose’s face seemed suspiciously pink. “We did go shopping, though.”

“Shopping?”

Rose looked at the bag. “Shopping,” she said again. 

The Doctor took the cue, and pulled out a small wrapped box labelled with only a small, hand-doodled heart. “What’s this?” she said. 

“Open it.”

The Doctor opened it. Inside was a shimmering silver ring, with an unfamiliar gemstone on the front. “We’re already married,” she said.

“I know,” said Rose, smiling. “It’s our anniversary, and your ring doesn’t fit anymore, so I thought… I’m sorry. Is it too much?”

The Doctor shook her head and slid the ring on her finger. “It’s fine,” she said, sniffling. (She had tested out her I-don’t-have-any-feelings grin on Missy, too.  _ “You look a besotted fool,” _ Missy said). “Best anniversary gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Rose grimaced. “Missy?”

The Doctor nodded, grimly. Missy’s idea of an anniversary gift was… destructive. “I love it.”

“Thank you. Sylvy said you might.”

“Sylvia.”

“Yes.” 

The Doctor shrugged. It was all very odd. She ignored that to admire her new ring, sparkling in the light of the coffee shop. “Happy anniversary, Mrs. Tyler.”

“Happy anniversary.”


End file.
